This is War
by jemssims
Summary: A Captain Swan AU. The feud between the ladies of Miss Bateman's Prep and the gentlemen of The Chesterfield School goes back as far as anyone can remember, but with new leaders on both sides, more than foot trails and tree houses are on the line.
1. Chapter 1

Her hair was clean, her sheets were warm, and physics equations from the final exam were dancing behind her eyelids in the most comforting way. That sort of serenity is just set up to be interrupted, of course.

 **AN: My first CS fic! I'm very excited about this. Bear with me, the first chapter is very cheesy and mostly exposition (also it's a little short for me). I promise it will get better. Thanks for reading & I love this fandom already!**

It was the flashlight. Someone was pointing a flashlight in her face.

"Emma..." a voice crooned.

"It's bedtime," she mumbled as she buried her face in her pillow.

"Come on, Emma. You know why I'm here." The speaker tore the sheets off her body, sticking the flashlight in her face.

With her face still in the pillow, Emma replied "I've already made myself clear. I don't want this."

The speaker pulled the pillow out from under her head. "Emma, you have no choice."

Emma groaned and finally opened her eyes to stare down her adversary. She sat up to make level eye contact as she used her feet to find her flip flops under her bed. She stood up and glared until the speaker, revealed to be Abigail, took a step back.

Emma crossed her arms over her oversized tee-shirt clad chest, and waited for the senior in the room to make the first move.

Abigail sighed. "You'll love it, you just don't know it yet." She started to walk to the door but Emma stayed put. "Come on, Emma. Give it a chance."

Emma followed her out of the room and down the hall. Because she was a junior, she lived on the bottom floor of her dorm. They walked right out the front door and onto one of the yards, skipping any paths just to get to their destination quicker. They made their way around the English building and Emma finally saw where they would be going. Even though it was well past 11, there were lights on in the boathouse, casting a yellow glimmer on the lake behind it.

When they got to the door, Abigail knocked four slow times. It swung open with Greta, another senior, standing in the doorway. Much to Emma's discomfort, she squealed. "Yay! We're all here now!" She hugged Abigail and got out of the way to let them in. The boathouse was illuminated with candles and flashlights, causing the canoes and sail boat hulls hanging from the ceiling to cast dramatic shadows. The school's pontoon boat was getting it's yearly fix up, so the normally crowded boat house felt empty with so much water in between everything.

"Now that everyone's arrived, we can begin!" Greta clapped her hands together with excitement. She had the four underclassmen sit on the dock with their feet dangling over the water.

Emma took off her flip flops and put them beside her so they wouldn't fall in. A gust of cool Connecticut June wind blew through the boat house, making the hairs rise on her arms as she felt Abigail stand behind her. The other seniors were standing behind their respective juniors as well.

"Welcome, ladies to the Bateman leadership initiation ceremony." Greta was trying to make herself sound serious, but her excitement was coming through a little too much.

Emma rolled her eyes at the dramatics of it all.

"We are gathered here today to bring forth a new class of leaders at Miss Bateman's Preparatory Academy. Leaders that will guide our lady warriors in one of our most ancient traditions: the territory wars."

Emma rolled her eyes again. 'Ancient' was definitely a hyperbole. The school was only about 100 years old.

"Congratulations, ladies. You have been chosen to lead your halls in the fight against the boys of Chesterfield. Juniors, you may stand. Turn to the lady who came before you."

Emma put her shoes back on and turned to face Abigail. She held out an unlit candle for Emma to take.

"From Addy Hall, Belle Leon." The flame from her now lit candle illuminated her face. "From Delamont, Ruby Williams." The candle just exaggerated her her pointed features. "From March, Ella Preuss." Emma held her breath as Abigail started to light her candle. "And from York, your captain, Emma Swan."

" _What_?!" She was very close to dropping her lit candle in the wooden boathouse.

"Congratulations, Emma."

"I really am fine with just being a leader." She tried to put as much kindness and urgency in her voice as possible. She saw Ruby roll her eyes from across the dock.

"Emma, we voted unanimously. It's an honor." The excitement had left Greta's voice.

"One that I don't want." Emma snuffed out her candle and placed it on the table by the door. "One that I really really don't want."

"Emma, you're the only one who can really stand up to Jones," Abigail spoke from behind her.

" _Little Jones_ is their leader this year?"

Greta and Abigail nodded.

"Well, now I really don't want to do it." She put her hand on the door handle to leave.

"Fine." Greta took a step. "Ruby will do it."

"Would you really do that to the school?" Being dragged out of bed to be enlisted in a job you don't want calls for some sass.

"Hey!"

Greta ignored her, picking up a red spiral notebook from the table. "There are the current borders, lists of all property with their pro's and con's, battle plans... You name it, it's in this book. It's yours if you want it. Please want it, Emma. You're the school's best hope."

Emma grabbed the book and opened the door. Mostly just to get away, she told them what they wanted to hear. "Fine, I'll do it. Good night, ladies."

She left the boat house feeling worse than when she had gotten there. The territory wars were just a stupid excuse to interact with the boys of Chesterfield. Not to mention they usually caused a few broken limbs among the freshman who didn't know that these wars weren't above boobie traps. She huffed at having to work with Ruby and timid Ella for an entire year. Also, _leading the entire school._

On the bright side, Belle was one of her closest friends.

But add another point to the 'con' column, Killian Jones was one of the worst humans ever. Cocky and pervy, maybe she'd have fun taking territory away from him. So maybe he was both a pro and a con. Well, he's a con, beating him is a pro.

All of these thoughts were swimming in her head as she climbed back into bed. No longer comforted by simply being done with exams, Emma was now very stressed. She tried to conjure up dancing physics equations, but all she could see was Ruby's smirk, a freshman with a broken arm, and Killian Jones.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Wow, so the first chapter of this was my first time uploading on here for a really long time, and it was really rough. Hopefully this goes better! Also sorry it took me so long to update this. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to. But now I'm sure. Now I'm very sure. Enjoy!**

She was sitting at her aunt's breakfast room table when the first feeling of going back to school hit her. It was the tea she was sippin. The floral and citrus blend Mary Margaret had been serving all summer was now more spicy with hints of apple. It was good, but it made Emma long for the summer days behind her. She had spent most of those days waking up early, due to the heat in her attic bedroom at her aunt's house, working in the garden, riding her bike barefoot to Belle's house and the convenience store for cokes and peanuts (a southern trick Mary Margaret taught her), and then going swimming at her favorite hidden pond on the Bateman property.

She'd lived with Aunt Mary Margaret at school for as long as she could remember. Her Aunt was an English teacher, and after trying to live in town, decided that the small cabin-like house where the manicured property turned into forest paths and streams was her prefered home. It had two bedrooms, but Emma prefered the space in the attic. It was roomy and smelled like lumber. The house had a flower garden out front, with vegetables and a small porch out back. It was all very Aunt Mary Margaret.

She was analyzing patterns on the artfully distressed breakfast room table and sipping her autumnal tea when her aunt came in from outside. "Emma, I hate to do this, but do you mind making yourself scarce for about an hour?"

"Got a hot date?" Emma spoke from over her mug.

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes, but they still smiled. "Not al all. The headmistress is bringing over the new world history teacher for tea. I thought she was just admiring my hydrangeas, but she decided to drop that bomb as well."

"Since when have you not been able to entertain someone for an hour. You're a cuter, younger Martha Stewart." Emma got up to rinse out her mug.

"I appreciate that, but she seems to really want to impress this guy."

She put her mug in the dishwasher. "It's a guy? So you do have a hot date!"

"Emma, please."

"Okay, I'm going. Did you wash my beach towels?"

"They're on the dryer."

"Thanks." Emma opened the laundry closet and pulled out one with the 'Be Our Guest' scene from Beauty and the Beast on it.

"Don't drown!"

"I don't plan on it!" Emma was already out the door, savoring the end of August heat on her air conditioned cooled skin. She made her way around the house and right to a foot path in the woods. It led to one of her favorite places on school property, somewhere right on the current border from last year's territory wars. She got to the break in the trees only to stop there, holding her breath. The sunlight was streaming through the leaves just so, dancing off the water of this small, secluded pond. It was perfect for swimming and any sort of hanging out, really. The bank on the Bateman side was smooth with pebbles and an old picnic table, while the Chesterfield side was mostly mud. The stream feeding in and out of it kept the water cool and fresh.

Emma kicked off her flip flops and shimmied out of her running shorts. She put her cotton tank top on top of her towel, revealing a simple black bikini. Her skin was clammy from her walk in the forest, so she wasted no time getting in the water.

It was like that scene in The Little Mermaid 2: Return to the Sea where Ariel, having had legs for awhile, dips her feet into the water again. That sort of relief of feeling like you're somewhere you deeply missed.

It was a dramatic comparison, but Emma had always had an active imagination only fueled by her aunt showing her every Disney movie and straight to VHS sequel during rainy afternoons and snow days. An imagination quelled only by her unrelenting cynicism. It was an interesting mix.

She hadn't really missed the pond, either. She was there yesterday. It was just the final piece of the puzzle that made Bateman's home.

She began her routine of slow laps between shorelines. Swimming here was more like meditation than exercise. From the laps she liked to completely submerge herself underwater, looking up through the clear water to see how the sun moved on top. She would hold her breath as long as she could manage. During her fourth drop under the surface, something blocked the light. She came up for air facing the Chesterfield side, with their new leader standing on the muddy shore.

"I see you're enjoying your limited time on Chesterfield property." His 'posh' British accent made the absurdity of the boarding school territory wars all the more ridiculous.

"This is the boundary, Jones." She quickly realized her disadvantage in this exchange, her treading water in the middle of the pond. Her only alternative was to get out, revealing her bikini-clad body or huddling under a towel. She decided to stay in.

"Not for long." He did a 360 sweep of the area. "This is definitely a priority for us when the wars start back up."

"Not if I have anything to do about it." Her limbs were starting to tire.

"Ah, yes," he smirked, "because you ladies were so organized and together last year."

"They weren't led by me last year." She tried to match his severity.

"I heard you were reluctant. Scared to take me on?"

"Not in those shorts."

He looked down at his baby blue pressed shorts with pink lobsters embroidered on them. "Insults will get you no where." He glared at her. "This is war."

"Well, then you better get dressed for it."

He eyed her bare skin under the water. "That, we have in common. Two weeks time, Swan, you're on defense." He quickly turned and went out of view on one of their footpaths.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," she muttered under breath as she swam back to shore. Her newfound ambition kept her warm as she dried off and headed home. If she wanted to beat Killian Jones before, that desire just increased tenfold.

She had some planning to do. She was so determined that she almost missed Mary Margaret sitting quietly at the kitchen table when she walked through the door. She stopped at the wooden stepladder that led to the attic. "How was tea?"

"It was good." She paused before 'good' and didn't look at her niece.

Emma put her wet towel on top of the washing machine. "Anything interesting happen?"

"He was just very charming."

Emma smiled at her smitten aunt. All the words she didn't say. "I'll leave you to Mr. Charming."

She was almost completely in the attic when her aunt called up. "Pizza okay for dinner?"

"Sounds good!" Emma shut the wood door on her attic floor. She needed some privacy if she wanted to get anything done. She sat at her usually unused desk and pulled a legal pad out from one of the piles of magazines and graded papers. She wrote "WAR" in big block letters at the top, followed by a smaller, cursive "to-do". Her list came out rapid fire, bullet point after bullet point:

CALL BELLE

Get emails/phone numbers of Ruby and Ella from Belle

Maybe make Belle the communications person?

MEMORIZE BORDERS

Make a map?

Figure out what I want (POND)

Ask other leaders what they want I guess

Battle plans?

How do we even fight this war?!

Water balloons?

Spit balls?

Boobie traps?

COW POOP!

Figure out Killian Jones

Just a gross rich boy?

Rich boy with baggage?

Is it terrible to exploit baggage?

Ask Belle about exploiting people's baggage

I have baggage

Hide my baggage

RUIN GROSS RICH BOY JONES

WIN TERRITORY WARS

GRADUATE!

It wasn't unlike Emma to get carried away, but her aunt calling up to ask what kind of pizza she wanted quickly snapped her out of turning her war to do list into a life to do list. Getting worked up now would not be good anyways. Emma needed a clear mind to figure out all this strategy stuff. She had a lot to do. After all, Jones was right about one thing: this is war.


End file.
